Time to grow up
by Maria The Sinner Kaiba
Summary: Alfred Jones. You think of a strong hero. Not a weak, fearful, broken man. He's heard one too many insults towards him and he wants to do something about it, make himself presentable. Soon he becomes obsessed with his appearance and his weight and it leads to insanity.
1. Time to grow up

"I'm the hero of course~"

A few groans.

Germany rubbed his temples and sighed, "Well, we got absolutely no where today. I hope you are happy. Maybe we can get something done next year." The sounds of England and France bickering, Sealand bickering with England, and Pasta~ were heard as almost everyone got up to leave.

"America-san, why do you eat those arr..." he cleared his throat, "_all_ the time? You're going to have a heart attack one of these days you know." said Japan as he watched America eat what he guessed was his 8th maybe 9th burger.

"No I'm not~ Hero's don't get heart attacks~ They are big, and strong!" answered America back proudly, neverminding the remarks he got from the other countries.

"Anyways, great seeing you Japan, but I'm going to go find a place that sells Ice-Cream. Bye~" He waved to Japan as he left the room and walked down the hall. "Wonder where Iggy and France went, maybe they'd like to get some with me." He continued to walk down the long red carpeted hallway and stopped when he heard a group of people talking. Being America, naturally, he was curious so he decided to see what they were talking about.

He hid behind the corner and listened to what he'd realised was France and England.

_"That boy, mon cheri, that boy is going to have a heart attack one of these days. I promise you that. He's already got to the 'Obese' scale in his country." _

_"Didn't you hear, he's the hero. Hero's can't GET heart attacks. Their big and strong~ By the Queen, I do not know why he's so stupid... is it because of me? No, I was a good caregiver, I just wish he'd shut his trap just once, just for five minutes at least, stop being so lazy, playing video games all day, and most of all, just stop eating!"_

_"I agree."_

They went on to talk more about him, how they hated this and that about him and wanted him to change.

America's heart dropped and broke into a million pieces as he just stood there and took all of their cruel words in... that was his family talking about him. He never minded it when other countries talked about him... but, hearing what he called family say the same things... he looked down to the burger he's been eating and tossed it into a near-by trash can.

He walked back down the way he came and passed the other countries on his way out, taking in all the insults he could hear them make. 'They have to be true then... if Iggy thinks that way about me, and the others... then it must be true.' he thought as he called a cab to take him back to his house. While on the way there, he thought. He didn't like being ridiculed like that and thought about what he should do to fit into what others said. He'd have to go on a diet... store away his games... work out more... hmm... 'I should make a list when I get home.'

He paid the cab drive money and went to unlock his door and went to check his phone while he unlocked his door.

_2 missed texts ; England and Italy._

America opened the one from Italy and read it, _"America~ You forgot to pick up the pasta you wanted. Do you want me to drop it off for you?" _

He texted back, "_Sorry, I totally forgot. You can eat it. I'll get it next meeting.~ He _shut his door behind him and opened the one from Iggy: _"You left pretty early, you okay? You'd better not be getting sick~ _

America texted him back: _"Hero's don't get sick.~_

He had to make a list of all the things he needed to do... a check-list or maybe a to-do list... whatever.

**America's to-do list to make people happy**

**1) Work out more.  
2) Eat healthier  
3) put up a good bit of games  
4) Clean up  
5)... (Work on rest later)**

He looked around his house, at all the trash, clothes and games lying around. "Well, best start somewhere." He pulled a couple of clothes baskets out and began to sort out dirty clothes, whites with whites, we all know the drill. He did this to every room in his house and planned to do laundry all night if he had to. While one pile of clothes were in the dryer, he folded and put the clean ones into drawers and hanged them up where they needed to go. He did this for almost 3 hours, not stopping once to get a snack.

He went back through the house again with a trash-bag and cleaned out every room, he filled 3 trash-bags and he put them outside in the trash-can. He sighed and sat down for a second. What next? Games. Put up the ones he never uses.

He was quite the collector of games, he and Japan often traded and borrowed each other games. He still had about 5 games that he borrowed from Japan. "I'll give them to Kiku next meeting."

He moved all the boxes to the basement and he even moved an old couch down there, he'd get rid of it later.

**America's to-do list to make people happy**

**1) Work out more  
2) Eat healthier  
3) put up a good bit of games (check****)  
****4) Clean up (check****)  
5) Get rid of any fattening foods.**

He grabbed some cardboard boxes and opened the cabinets and started filling the boxes with any type of food that he knew would stop him from reaching his goals. There was no need in throwing this away, he'd just give the food to a soup kitchen or something. He threw things away that were in the fridge and cleaning out the freezer.

"Okay, so. I'll go shopping in a bit for healthy foods..." He checked his phone again: _2 texts: England and Italy;_

He opened the one that Italy had sent him: _"Aww.. but I put so much time into it... but I guess I could eat it. I'll make you one next meet."_

_"Okay."  
_

He opened the open from England: _"Good. Be safe. I'm going back to England with Frog... good for me. Can we talk for a while, while he and I drive up to the airport, cause I really don't want to talk to France.~_

_"I'm sorry. I'm busy cleaning up. I'm sure you'll be fine... just sleep tonight with a loaded gun in case. JK~_

_**Two weeks Later**_

He got on the scale and looked down, 168: He'd lost 12 pounds in total of fourteen days. Not quite what he wanted to see, but it was a good start. He had to stay positive. Yeah, positive. '_I'll get this. I'll show them that I can change. I'm a hero after all. A hero has to be able to be there for his people.'_ He drank the rest of the bottled water and went to sit on the couch. If he continued to do this every week for a year, he would be healthy enough for everyone.

**_Three Months Later_**

America tossed and turned in his bed, sweating and panting, trying to fight the nightmare he was having. "STOP IT!" He awoke yelling and held his heart panting. "Shit... that dream... again... hah, hah, hah." He wiped his forehead and coughed. Why was he having nightmares... they taunted him, his weight, his stupidness, his everything. He picked at the scars on his arms and laid back down. He was almost to his goal anyways... he'd lost over 28 pounds but gained back over 15 of it. During month two, he just snapped and bought a lot of fast food and just pigged out.

That's when he started getting the nightmare. They tell him, _'Knew you couldn't do it. You're such a pig. You must be such a weak ass if you couldn't last two months without pigging out, no wonder they make fun of you. YOU DESERVE IT~'_

And that's when he started to harm himself. Carving 'Fatass' and 'Stupid' into his arms and other put-me-down words on his 'Fat' thighs and stomach. And other slashes across what he now deemed as fat.

_**Six months later**_

He laid in bed and sighed, he pressed talk on his phone and answered. "H-Hello?" He coughed and cleared his throat. _"So you are alive. You had me worried, I thought you were dead or something."_ "Sorry, I should have called.." _"What have you been doing? It's been about six months since we last talked."_"England, I'm fine. I've just been ... really busy..." _"Busy doing what? You're never too busy for family." _

"Busy doing what? Iggy, I'm a country, hello~ Remember? I have to look after everything and help my boss. It's just that stress has got to me." _"You want me to come over? We can go out to eat and talk about things. I know how you like to talk about your problems. And I'm sure it would help with the stress." _

America flinched at the phrase, "Out to eat" and "Talk about things. He barely did any of those things anymore. He barely talked anymore and ate any real food. And anything he did eat, he couldn't keep down. "No thanks. I mean. Um, if you want to come over you can... you'd probably get bored though, I've been real busy."

_"You're not too busy for family. We've all been worried about you. All of us. Matthew, Francis, even Ivan asked about you. You've been real quiet for half a year, which is so unlike you. I'm coming over tomorrow and that's that. Bye." _ He hung up and left America to his dark room. During the past 3 months, America had kept to his plan. Never faltering. He had some days where he couldn't move because he was so weak, but the voice in his head told him he was making progress.

Last time he weighed himself, he weighed about 108-110 pounds. Surely that had to be enough weight lost for everyone to love him... but who could love such an ugly creäture?

He looked over at the clock, 10:29 P.M. He didn't feel like getting up to do anything so he just yawned and closed his eyes and drifted into a hellish sleep.

**_Next Day_**

America awoke to someone knocking on his front door, then someone calling, _ "ALFRED~ I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE~ NO SENSE IN_ _HIDING~" _

"W-what?" He turned over and looked at the clock, 2:38 P.M. He threw on a sweater over his torso, put some sweat pants on and rushed downstairs to open the door. "S-sorry... I was asleep. England... how long... have you been out here?"

England answered crossly, "About an hour. Mind you, I called about 6-7 times."

America cleared his throat, "Sorry bout that Iggy."

England looked over America and took in a lot of noticeable changes in his former colony. He was beyond skinny, he looked pale and something just didn't seem right. "Well, are you finally going to let me in? Or do I have to wait another hour before so?"

America held the door for a second then stepped aside and let England in, "Sorry. Well, make yourself at home.. or whatever." He went to go lay on the couch and before long was drifting to sleep.

England looked around the house, it was clean, cleaner than it had ever been. He looked over at America expecting to see him starting a game or watching tv, but it was quiet and America was asleep on the couch.

"America~ Get up. Hey." He poked at him until America opened his eyes, which, to England, seemed duller than the bright blue eyes he was used to seeing all the time. "Mm.. what do you want. I'm tired. I was up all day yesterday exercising and I went to bed at ten or maybe eleven I don't remember, let me sleep."

England shook his head, "You should have slept earlier if you knew I was coming. Scoot over, or I'll pour cold water in your face." England sat on the couch and America smacked himself awake, "Hey, don't do that. You'll hurt yourself." England took America's hand away from his face. "Do you wanna watch tv and talk about things? You look as though you could use a good talk, let everything go."

America shrugged, "I don't really care, you can turn the tv on if you want to." He laid back on the couch and his stomach growled roughly pleading for food.

"Or better yet, I'll make us something to eat and we can catch up." England stood up and went to the kitchen. He honestly expected the kitchen to be overrun by dirty dishes, for the kitchen to smell like food. Not for the oven to have dust on it. Not for the dishes to look untouched. The kitchen smelt dead. Not what England was used to it smelling like.

He went to open the cabinets to find something to fix but was surprise to find them bare. He went to the fridge and found it only held some veggies and fruits. He sighed, "You need to go grocery shopping."

He went back into the living room and pulled some crackers out of his duffel bag that he had brought and handed some to America. "You need to go grocery shopping, here, eat this, it'll satisfy you for a while."

America stared at the crackers like they were rotting fish. "Gross." he whispered, "I'm not hungry, you can have them."

"Not hungry... that's bullshit. You're always hungry and your stomach growled loudly a while ago. Eat." he handed them back to America and watched him. "I said eat."

America made a gagging sound and pushed them to the floor. "I-I said no. I don't want to eat. I'm fat enough without you trying to feed me."

That made England almost choke and he looked over at his former colony."Fat?"

American nodded, "I've been on a really good diet the last six months. AT the beginning, I weighed about 180 pounds... now I weigh around 108 to 110 pounds. Heh. I thought I was skinny enough now. But I guess not... you haven't said anything about it... so you must have not noticed it... uh no... Well, I'll just keep on my "diet' until someone notices. I've worked really hard, see, I keep this place clean... I don't play games anymore, I'm not lazy and I don't talk much anymore. I can shut-up for more than 5 minutes. And I stopped eating!"

England looked at America and felt like crying, what had happened to his brother. One of the most strongest nations in the world, and now... he was weak, barely talking, and...and, England didn't know what to do.. what could he do? Should he tell Francis and Matthew? Of all people, they deserve to know what's going on in their brother's life... what little life is left.

"America, have... have you done anything else to yourself? Like, have you hurt yourself?"

America blinked and stopped talking, he let his insanity speak for him, England wasn't supposed to know... England asked again but America stayed quiet. He didn't want to hurt him anymore than he already had in the past.

"Alfred~ You answer me right now." England said this time, voice raised, "Answer me now!~"

America looked at England, expression cold and blank, an expression that America had never had. It sent shivers down his spine, and even more when America answered, "So what? So what if I have? What are you going to do about it, brother?" He said the word brother with a bitterness in his tone. "Just leave me alone. You and the others have done enough to me. Go back home. I don't want you here." He got up and walked back upstairs leaving England alone on the couch to his thoughts and feelings.

England decided to call Francis and Matthew. England called France first and waited until he picked up. "France, it's important." _"How important. Where are you?" _"I'm at America's place... France... he's.. he's.." France seemed to get a bit panicked, _"America is what? Spit it out~" _ "He's sick... he's sick... sick... really sick, and I'm scared. Please, just get over here... call Canada and tell him. I'm going to check on America."

England walked up the stairs and went to America's room. He knocked on the door, "America... I'm sorry. Please, open the door."

~Silence~

"America, please?" he spoke softly this time and the door unlocked and England walked inside the dark room. The windows were covered up by heavy blankets that blocked out the sunshine and the room seemed dead, even the occupant of the room was dead like, who just sat there on the bed. "America. I'm sorry." He hugged America tightly and he couldn't hold back his tears anymore, he just cried and hugged America.

"I'm sorry~ I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I'm such a stupid brother."

America hugged England back and hid his face in England's neck. "I'm sorry for hurting you... I can't seem to do anything right. They're right, I am worthless."

England looked up surprised, "What?"

"I'm stupid, worthless, a waste of space and a fatso, I'm not a hero anymore... I never was. Why am I even alive.. I don't like this life, I want to die."


	2. Break down

England stood there, hugging the large American for what seemed like hours, listening to him cry, ramble, apologize, call himself all sorts of names and so on, and felt heartbroken. America had been sick for a while, and no one realised it... how long had he been like this?

_Had it been Weeks? How many weeks had he battled his fears?_

_Had it been Months? How many months had he harmed and starved himself?_

_Had it been Years? How many years had he been alone? Just him and his fears, while his physical appearance carried a smile? _

_Who caused him to finally snap? Who caused it to begin with?_

All types of questions filled England's head while he stood there. "Alfred, you don't need to ask for forgiveness, it's me and the others who should be asking you for your forgiveness.. who knows which one of us started your self-consciousness and which one of us finally made you snap. I'm sorry for making you feel alone. I should've come over and see you... I..." he sighed and hugged America tighter.

They both stood there for a couple minutes and then America sighed, "I'm tired..." America let go of England slowly and went over to his bed and pulled the blankets up to his neck and curled up. England watched him with all sorts of emotions mixing inside of him.

_I'll help you... I promise Alfred, I won't leave until you're well on your feet and when you once again become the hero._

He didn't want to leave him alone, so he decided to stay in the room until America woke up. He pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed and watched America sleep. He watched every twitch, every toss and turn for what seemed like hours, and it probably had been hours because when he was finally brought back into reality, he heard a car pull up into the driveway and he went over to the window and moved the blanket to see France and Canada.

He looked over at the sleeping American and walked out of the room and walked downstairs to let the two in. When he opened the door, he was bombarded with millions of questions from both of the blond haired males.

"Woah woah woah, calm down, both of you. I can't understand you, and I don't want any stressful atmosphere around America while he's the way he is. Come in, and I'll answer each of your questions, but stay quiet."

He let them in and they looked around, England though it was from shock or something.

"It's so clean... and I don't smell food.. why not? Is brother okay?" asked Canada as he turned to face England.

England took sometime to answer that question... he didn't quite know himself, was America okay? Physically? Mentally? Emotionally? No, he wasn't any of those things... America wasn't sane at the moment, a sane person wouldn't do this to his or herself, ... would they?

"...No. No he's not. He hasn't eaten in God knows how long, I thinks he's delusional and he's said that he's been hurting himself. I don't know the severity of the wounds or how his body looks yet. He's upstairs asleep and that's it. He's cleaned up, there are no games anywhere.. barely enough food for one sane man to survive off of.." he trailed off when he locked eyes with France... "H-he's hurting, he's hurting real bad... and I don't know how long he's been dealing with it..a-alone, and I, I..." His voice cracked and he broke down, while France pulled him into a hug.

Canada made a sound and Covered his eyes, to which France pulled him into a hug also. "Calmez-vous, frères. Il ira mieux. Je sais que ce sera"

"Okay, what do we need to do to help America?" asked Canada as he wiped away tears. There was no answer. "We have to do something~"

"We will mon cher, we will. But, we have never dealt with this before... the first thing that comes to mind is make him feel loved. People seem to hurt the things they hate most right? Well, if he's hurting himself, then he must hate himself."

That made England break down more.

"Come on Iggy, be strong. We have to be strong. Especially for America." He wiped England's tears and nodded, "Okay. Well, if you said there is no food in the kitchen, one of us have to go buy groceries. Canada... you're the one who's most.. um, what's the word... familiar.. with America's eating habits... can you go to the store?"

**Canada's** **Side**

Canada nodded, "Mhm." He took the keys France handed him and went out the door to the car. He sighed before he opened the driver's door. _Why had it been Alfred who fell so low? Why was it him who was hurting himself? If he had a choice, Canada would gladly change places with him, just for Alfred to have a temporary peace and as much happiness he could get. But he couldn't switch places, but that didn't mean that Canada wouldn't do anything for his brother. Canada would and will do anything to bring back Alfred's happiness.  
_

Canada clenched his fists and then opened the door and sat down and drove off. _'What I am going to buy for him that he's actually going to eat?'_

**England's Side**

They watched as Canada drove off and England looked up at the stairs. "I'm going to go check on Alfred... be back in a second." He Made the trip upstairs and went to open the door but stopped when he heard mumbling. He couldn't really make any of it out. _'Is he talking in his sleep? Or is he sleepwalking?'_

He opened the door cautiously, and looked around to find America standing up by his bed, staring at the ground, mumbling and using his hands while he (What it seemed like) arguing with himself... or maybe a voice inside his head? "No.. but... I know.."

England went up to America and gently placed his hand on America's shoulder and called his name, "Alfred, you okay?"

The mumbling stopped and America slowly brought his head around and somewhat looked at England, "Go. Away. Now. I don't, want you here. I... don't want to see you... ever again~" He smacked England's hand away roughly and pushed England away.

"America, wake up!" said England as he picked himself off the ground. "I said WAKE UP!" he called louder.

America lunged at England, "Stop telling me what to do! You've always told me what to do, how to fucking dress. I'm Tired of it, I'm tired of you always putting me down!" He pinned England to the ground and just stared at England.

"Alfred, please wake up. I'm sorry for making you feel this way.. I really am.. I.." He was cut off when the sleepwalking American put his hands around the small Englishman's neck, almost crushing him.

France opened the door to see what was with all the screaming and almost had a heart attack when he saw the scene before him. "Descendez de de lui!" He rushed over to the large American and tried to pull him off.

_'Merde! For someone who's starved himself, he sure is strong.' _ He kept on trying to push and pull him off of the dying Englishman.

England looked up at America and took his hands away from trying to push America's hands off. He let them fall to the floor and he closed his eyes. If America wanted to strangle him, let him. It's not like it would kill him. And if it would make him feel better subconsciously, then let it happen.

France took out his cigarette and jammed it on America's shoulder, pain was the only thing that would wake him up. America blinked and jumped off of England and covered the fresh burn, "Fucking Christ!" He looked around for a second and saw England on the ground coughing and didn't register what happened, "What happened to you? Are you okay?"

England laid on the ground, hands covering his throat and kept coughing.

"No he's not fine. You strangled him!" yelled France as he helped England up.

_"Tsk Tsk Tsk. Oh wow America... look at that, hurting those we love AGAIN? Jeez, you sure can't do anything right... they were here to help us, now, they probably don't want anything to do with your lazy fat really are worthless." _Spoke the alternate America (AN: Not the 2P version. This version is one he subconsciously created... it's like anxiety or something that always makes him feel crappy and less of a person) He shook his head in a somewhat mocking way, _"You honestly hurt everyone we meet, don't you. Why don't you just die?"_

The real America looked down and spoke softly, "Sorry... I didn't mean to hurt you.. I can't do anything right it seems...

England shook his head, "You were asleep. You didn't know what you were doing. I'm not leaving you alone to face yourself." He looked at France then went over to America and help him up, "Come on downstairs. I want to see those wounds you gave yourself. France, go find a first aid kit.

**Canada's Side**

He went to the checkout station and waited while the cashier lady rang up the food and drinks. Canada looked at the self behind him and saw some first aid supplies and remembered that England said America was hurting himself. He placed gauze and rubbing alcohol on the belt as well.

"You must be having a feast. What's the special occasion?" asked the cashier girl. She looked like she was 17 or maybe 18.

"You could say something like that. Me and my family, we've recently come in contact with an old brother of ours and figured we'd invite him over and see if we can set up a new relationship." answered Canada, trying to be as truthful as possible without actually saying that he was dealing with an anorexic brother.

"Really? I hope it goes well for you. I wish I had my older brother around still. I wish I had been on good terms with him." said the girl as she brought up the price. 234 dollars.

"What happened between you and your brother?"

"We got into a fight and a week later he shot himself in the head, right in front of me. He wouldn't have done it if he knew I had been there. I just came unannounced to get my stuff and move out. When I saw him do that.. I broke down and it's just never been the same between me and the family. No one really gets together for family functions and we're basically on our own. Our brother was the one who held our family together... then he got all depressed and..." she sighed and rested her head in her hands.

"I'm sorry about your brother. I really am. The truth is... about our get together... our brother is seriously depressed, and we just found out about it. We're trying to save him.. from himself."

She looked up. "You save him. Or else nothing will be the same. Everyone will blame themselves for his death.. and it just goes downhill. And let me know how it goes. Please."

Canada nodded, "Here, give me your number. I'll call you about his progress." He handed her his phone and watched her.

She nodded and put her number in his phone, "Here. I'll pray for your brother's health. Call me if you need any advice."

Canada nodded, "I will.. I have to get going, talk to you later."

**England's** **Side**

England petted America's head as they hugged. "I said it was okay. I know you didn't mean to." France patted America's back, "Come on, it'll be okay. You're sick. And we're going to help you get better."

"What if I can't get better?" he asked through tears.

"Then we won't leave. We're not leaving you alone. You shouldn't have been alone while you faded into this insanity. But we're here now." answered France seriously.

"Come on now. Take your shirt off. We're not here to judge you." spoke England.

America sighed and slowly took off his shirt and once it was off both England and France looked away and covered their mouths. Sure they thought it was bad, but not this bad. There were some wounds that were infected, some that weren't closed all the way, some that spelled words and names, new cuts, old cuts. And then there was the sight of America's ribs and bones poking out of his side. He looked like he'd been starved for years.

France sat back beside America and opened the first aid kit and pulled out rubbing alcohol and gauze. He took his right arm and started to clean him up. "You could have at least cleaned these."

America nodded, "I know... but I didn't want to." He flinched slightly as scabs were pulled off and as the rubbing alcohol went into the cuts and as the wounds were wrapped up in gauze.

England started to do the same thing with his left arm. Doing the same process as France was doing.

They stopped when they heard a car horn outside and France went to the window and saw Canada. "Mon Cher is back. I'm going to go help." He went out the door and started to unload the car and bring backs of food in.

When Canada stepped inside and saw America's wounds he almost threw up. France nudged him along.

America watched with horror as he watched each bag get brought in. England noticed it and directed attention to himself, "So, America, how long have you been doing this?"

America turned back around to England and thought, "Uh.. I don't remember, about four, five months.."

England nodded and watched Canada and France bring in the last bags. "America, I'm going help France put up the food, you want to come in with us?" America thought for a moment, "Y-yeah... I guess." They both got up and went into the kitchen to hear Canada talking.

"Okay, so, put these foods in the back of everything, the fridge and cabinets."

France asked, "Why?"

"Because, these are foods that he used to eat eh, and that will be our goal for him to eat. But we're not rushing him, this system is completely on his own time and his own levels of comfort. Now, these foods and drinks... you put them in the front," he looked at America, "These foods are healthy. Stuff that will keep you weight down as low, but also will build you back up. These don't bring on fat, okay? You eat as much as you can, and then I'll be setting goals for you. The ultimate goal, is to get you to eat the foods in the back: ribs, chicken, pizza, chips and we'll even buy you Burger King and McDonald's.."

America was overwhelmed with all the food that was being loaded into his kitchen. He sat down and took in deep breaths to calm himself down. Canada saw this and pulled his brother back into the living room. "Here. let me finish cleaning your wounds." He took the bag that held the gauze and alcohol and started to clean his chest.

This went on for about an hour and when Canada had finished, the lights flickered as a large **_Clap _**of thunder and bright lighting shook and lit the darkening sky and made both Canada and America jump and yell out from fear.

The two had always been deathly afraid of thunder and lightning storms, ever since they were little. France and England would always comfort them through the entire storm and when the two had grown up and had got wind of a thunderstorm, they'd travel to each other's houses and wait out the storm together.

"Why did there have to be a storm tonight~" Asked Canada as he hugged America and as France and England rushed back into the living room. "I don't know~ I wish it would hurry up and finish." answered back America as he pulled Canada into a bigger hug as Thunder clapped once again.

France and England smiled at the sight, "Aw.. it seems our boys never grew up."

America looked over at them, "H-hey, shut up. Thunderstorms are scary."

England smiled and sighed, "Okay. Looks as though we'll baby you both tonight while the storm rages on." France and England went over to the couch and pulled the two "Boys" into big bear hugs and it seemed like old times. When they had been a proper family, until America had revolted against England and ruined everything... he stopped smiling and just listened to the rain, and flinched at the Thunder.

* * *

TRANSLATION

Calmez-vous, frères. Il ira mieux. Je sais que ce sera : Calm down, brothers. It'll get better. I know it will

Descendez de de lui! : Get off of him!

Merde : Shit


	3. Too much to handle

_'Stupid! Why can't you do anything right? You attacked your own brother... you can't pay back the debt you owe China... fatass, retard, lazy..'_

_America stood in the dark room and watched the creäture who filled his head with all those insults, reminding him that he wasn't needed nor truly loved. 'I-I'm not stupid... not that stupid...' he responded, 'I'm not any of those things... right?' He asked, hoping that his subconscious was satisfied with how much torture he put himself through to live up to everyone's standards. _

_'Hahahaha. You're not, are you? Look at you. Listen to them. Remember what they said about you? Now, why would they say those things if they weren't true? You know better than to think you're anything but what they call you. And dare I say? It looks as though you're putting weight back on! Go Look For Yourself!'_

America shot up and panted, trying to catch his breath. Why was he scared of that little nightmare? It wasn't as bad as everyone he usually got. Still, the words of it, of _Him, _still echoed through his ears.

_'Dare I say it? It looks as though you've put on more weight. Go Look For Yourself!'_

America lifted his shirt and looked at his stomach, was it true? Of course it was, why else would He bring it back up every once in a while? But, there could be that once possible chance that He had been mistaken... America looked around and listened, silence.

Where was everyone? That didn't matter, what mattered was getting his fatass to a scale and seeing if he had gained weight.

He got up and flinched a bit as his warm feet touched the cold floor. He walked to and up the stairs and headed to his bedroom. He went to his bathroom and locked the door. He had a right to be paranoid about the possibility of someone barging in and taking his scale and his diet pills. He had once looked up anorexia online before. Months ago. And how people would cure it. Or help to cure it.

He couldn't remember all the steps the sites mentioned, but a couple had stuck to the back of his head: One, make them feel loved. Two, get rid of anything that shows their weight, or their appearance. Three, get rid of any weights/scales, and any diet pills they may have. Four, get them to eat. Not all at once, little by little. What they are comfortable with.

So, naturally, he had a little hiding place where he hid everything. In the back of his closet, behind boxes of old clothes that didn't fit him anymore. He'd left the box in the bathroom and forgot to put them up the night before England came over. Luckily, Canada or the others hadn't thought of everything and taken what was had been listed in the sites. Of course, they'd probably never even saw the sites... well, not yet at least.

He stepped on the scale and his heart raced... what would it say? He didn't even want to look... He looked in the large mirror he had placed on the back on the bathroom door. That was a mirror that he was sure was going to be destroyed... he looked at his 'Fat'. _He _had been right... he pinched at the fat he saw in the mirror and felt disgust.

He finally looked down at the scale, 107 pounds. That wasn't right... no, his reflection showed something different. And he decided that he trusted his own reflection more than a man-made thing. He got off the scale and reached into the box and pulled out his diet pills and popped 2 into his mouth, not caring how much he was supposed to take... just as long as this weight dropped off him.

He heard a knock at the door and someone call his name. "America. Come on, it's time to eat. I promise it's nothing too much."

Canada. Canada, he'd always been the quiet brother, but, he'd always been the most caring and thoughtful brother. America had always admired him for being so nice and kind even when everyone almost forgot who he was.

"Y-yeah.. I'm coming.." He said as he packed the things away and slid them in the cabinet. He sighed, 'Here goes nothing' He unlocked the door and walked out and saw Canada. "Hey.." America said, quiet like, "Do I have to... eat?"

Canada nodded, "Yep. You have to... not everything, of course. But, you atleast have to make an effort. Come on, I promise, it's not much, it'll be fine." He pulled America along and they both walked downstairs and into the kitchen.

America almost gagged at the smell. The kitchen was alive and had food. He hadn't realised that there was this much food. Sure he saw them put them away... but.. this much? Was it really necessary?

France and England were already eating... so much food. "Ah Amérique, viennent s'asseoir, manger!" England looked at America, then indicated the seat beside where he sat. "Come on."

America looked at the seat beside him and went to go sit down and remained silent as Canada fixed him his plate. He watched England and France both eat their food and as the continued to talk/argue with each other. How could they eat such fattening foods? Just watching them eat was grounds for throwing up, he held it back though and sat still, or just stared at the table.

He made a face when Canada placed his plate down in front of him. Two eggs, and two pieces of bacon. "I thought you said this wasn't much?"

Canada blinked, "This isn't much."

America sighed, he knew their understanding would only reach so far. Not so much? Fuck. This was more than he usually ate in a week, "I'm not eating this." He pushed the plate away and sighed.

"You have to eat America. You have no choice." said England but was quickly cut off by France, "Don't listen to him, only eat bit of everything, then you can leave."

England scoffed, "Yeah, like that's going to help him. He needs meat on his bones."

Canada joined in before England could say anything else, "He's not going to start back normal, like nothing ever happened.. he's sick. He needs to take it one step at a time. It looks as though you don't thoroughly understand what's going on..."

France looked at America while the other two continued to argue, "Mon cher, just, eat what you're only comfortable with. If that means one piece of bacon, that's fine," he smiled brightly at America, "I know you can do it. It's not asking much."

America let his shoulders dropped and his expression changed from stubborn to helplessness, "I don't want to though... I can't. You guys just don't understand... I-I can't."

"Then help us understand." responded France.

America remained quiet, trying to think of what he could say... ~Blank~ Nothing... something like this, is hard to explain, hard to control, hard to stop, especially with others trying to help you, when they don't understand anything.

"I... uh..." he stopped and sighed, "I can't. I'm not eating anything. You can't just shove it down my throat."

France sighed sadly, he thought he had somewhat helped America, "You have to eat something, you can't just go all day without eating." He pushed the plate back over to America.

England and Canada looked over at the two at the table, "America, you said you'd try. At least keep that part of your word." asked Canada. England nodded, "Mhm. So, I guess, just eat at least half a piece of bacon." They all watched him.

America's heart raced, they didn't understand. What they were asking... was impossible.. he couldn't eat... why were they asking him... why wouldn't they just shut up? He heard "Anxiety's" taunting voice, _'Yeah, just eat. Just throw everything you've worked on away. Who cares if you become the fatass again?' _

America gripped his head then smacked the plate off the table, earning a gasp from Canada.

"Why? Why do I have to eat! I don't want to gain anymore weight just so you guys and the others can make fun of me! Why would anyone do that. I've finally gotten rid of everything I've ever been bullied about... but nothing I do ever seems to make anyone satisfied... they always want more and more of me until I can't deliver... I can't eat that food... I c-can't," his voice cracked and he hid his face in his arms, "I can't eat anything. I don't want to... I'm not strong enough to take the insults anymore..." He stopped talking and gagged and covered his mouth.

"America? Are you okay?" asked France and he patted America's back. America shook his head and he stood up fast and backed out of the room and rushed up the stairs and to his bathroom with France, England and Canada following after him. He slammed his bathroom door shut and emptied what little contents his stomach held. When he finished, he crawled and locked the door.

"America, open up! Are you okay?" called England.

America put his back to the door and he the sides of his head, "GO AWAY! GO AWAY GO AWAY!"

His heart raced fast, to fast, it felt as though he was going to pass out. He needed something to take his pain away.. he looked around the bathroom and then remembered he had razors until his sink in the cabinet.

He looked over and saw Anxiety, _'Do it, you know you'll feel better. You may even die... don't you want to be left alone? Don't you want the pain to go away?'_

He stood up on his knees and pushed his sleeves up and took the razor in his hand and looked up at the door., "America, open up! NOW!" He squeezed the razor in his hand as he covered his ears, they weren't helping... they weren't. Why couldn't they realize this? Why not?

He dragged the blade across his skin, the familiarity was soothing. He made another cut, and another, and another. It felt good... He wasn't thinking of his empty stomach, or his demanding brothers.. he focused on the feeling on blood dripping down his arm. He closed his eyes and sat back. He rested his back on the cabinet and began to slow his breathing, by taking deep breaths, neverminding what those behind the door said or pleaded.

Funny... his hearing was starting to fade. He opened his eyes and looked around, his vision faltering. He didn't really hear the door being busted open and his three brothers barging in and trying to help him. He held up his arm and looked at what he had done... or at least he tried to. Someone was pushing it down... he heard someone familiar call his name and touch his cheek.

He blinked a couple times as someone picked him up and then they rushed out the door and what seemed like outside.

"S-sorry..." He'd managed to say before he finally fell unconscious.

**England's View**

"Bloody drive faster you twat! I swear... fuck the red lights!" He yelled in a panicked tone. He looked back down at America while applying pressure to the cuts. _'Surely he hadn't meant to cut so deep... right? No... of course... oh my god.. don't you fucking do this to me!' _

**Canada's View**

"S-sorry...I'm sorry..." he continued to cry. He had lied to America. He told him to eat more than what he had promised. He knew it was too much, he just hoped that America's pride would come in and just eat half of it to shut them up... _"If he dies... it's all my fault!" _

No one in the family had ever dealt with anorexia before, so of course, they would have pushed a bit too far unknowingly. Canada had a great plan, start small to finish off last, with the food, but, even he hadn't fully grasped America's problem._  
_

**_France's View_**

"Merde, merde! Dieu-merde. Alfred, osez-vous pas mort!" France half-yelled. He was the older brother... why couldn't he take care of them? No... he had taken care of them. Something went wrong with Alfred... and now it was France's duty as a brother to save him.

He speed into the hospital parking lot and then hopped out of the truck and helped pulled America out of truck and rushed him inside with ENgland still holding the wounds in a death hold..

"HEY! HELP!" He yelled at the doctors and nurses, who soon rushed over to the dying man and hurriedly placed him on a gurney and rushed him into the operation room.

France gripped England's shoulder and hid his face in his hand and England put a hand over his heart, silently praying for his ex-colony. They stood there for five minutes until they noticed Canada was not with them. "I think he's still in the truck. I'll go get him. You wait in here." said France as he exited the hospital.

He opened the door to see Canada still crying, his knees pulled up to his head and France gently patted Canada's head, "Tout ira bien petit. Il ira bien. Come on Matthew, lets go inside and wait for news."

"W-why did this have to h-happen to him?" cried Canada as France pulled him into a hug, "Even the greatest nations have a weakness. I guess we found America's..." He pulled Canada out of the truck and lead him inside.

They walked back inside and walked over to England. "How long do you think it'll be?" asked Canada, still wiping away tears.

England sighed, "I honestly don't know... all we can do is wait and pray he doesn't die..." he sat back down and covered his eyes with his hand, "All we can do is wait and pray.."

* * *

**Translations**

Ah Amérique, viennent s'asseoir, manger! : Ah America, come sit, eat!

Merde, merde! Dieu-merde. Alfred, osez-vous pas mort! :Shit, fuck! God-dammit. Alfred, don't you dare die!

Tout ira bien petit. Il ira bien : It'll be okay little one. He'll be fine

**Author's Note**

Okay, I had previously gotten a review from a guest..

_EagleFliesAway  
_

_Hello!_  
_This is a nice idea for a FF. I really enjoy those ones in which they get better because they get help from each other. Your writing style is very good and I love to read stories with an awesome plot AND a good writer._  
_But about the plot, or rather the characters. They just learned about Americas stat of mind and it's nice for them to act that quickly, yet I'm under the impression that it's too much at once for America to handle. Usually you go very slowly and at the person's pace, just like with the food. _  
_Btw, your french is really good. Descendez de lui is the most correct answer, though. :)_  
_Greetings_

Now, I noticed that he/she said that they believed that all the action from his brother's was going to fast for America to handle.

That was what I was planning. England, France, and Canada have never personally dealt with anorexia. So of course, they wouldn't know what to do, or how slow to go, and how to do things on America's time. During the breakfast scene, while they were pushing him to eat, they really hoped that America's pride would step in and he would just eat the food and get it over with. Of course, this isn't the case.


End file.
